Chapter 30 #2
She turned away, as tears chased familiar paths down her cheeks. The reason thundered like a wild pulse in her throat, but she could not bear to speak it. Instead, she said the first thing that came to mind.
“Well, for one thing, you don’t want to have children.”
He was silent for a little while. She could practically hear him blinking in confusion. “What makes you think that?” he asked at last.
“You made me think that!” she answered with a little shrug and shot him a short look. “That day when Garden malfunctioned. Remember? You said, ‘What kind of a father would I make?’ In quite a disparaging tone, I might add.”
“Ah!” He sat back, placing his hands on his knees. “I see.” He pressed his lips into a hard line. After a moment, he said, “I don’t know that I would make the best father.”
Luna snorted.
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t want children.”
“Really?” She turned to him, her breath catching.
“I mean.” He rubbed a hand down the back of his neck, and his cheeks looked a little pink in the moonlight. “I mean, I . . . I sometimes . . . sometimes I can almost picture it. You know? A little boy named after my father. A little girl named after your aunt.”
“Which aunt?”
“Apolonia.”
A smile broke across her face, so spontaneous, Luna couldn’t stop it. “Loni for short?”
“Yes!” he answered at once, catching her eye. “And . . . and maybe a few more besides.” He hesitated. “I can’t promise that I would be the, erm, the best father ever. But, Luna, I swear to you, I would do everything in my power to make our family a happy one.”
Luna sniffled again and studied the top of Gruffles’s head. “For what it’s worth, I’ve always thought you’d be a wonderful father.”
“You have?”
She nodded. “You’re so kind and nurturing and sweet.
You always take such good care of the flowers, and Debbie, and Garden.
And, well, you always take care of me too, don’t you?
Why, since the first day I met you, you’ve done nothing but try to make my life better!
Here I’d just burst in on your day, interrupting everything and causing such a terrible mess, then blubbering like a little ninny.
But you were so patient. So concerned. And you made me that gods-awful tea and loaned me your dressing gown and offered me a job, and I thought you must be the most generous, unselfish man I’d ever known. ”
“Oh, Luna.” He groaned, burying his face in one hand. “You have no idea what the sight of you in that dressing gown did to me!”
“Is that so?”
He nodded. “I’m not unselfish. Not at all. Not in the least.” Turning his head, he peered at her over the edge of his fingers. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I first laid eyes on you.”
Luna’s brows rose, and she turned away. Her mind scanned back over so many moments of their acquaintance. So many interactions which this confession of his cast in an entirely new light. “Do you mean to tell me,” she said slowly, “all this was just a very long game? To get me into bed with you?”
“Erm, well—”
“The teas. The meals. The new shoes. The changing of those gross charcoal plasters and holding me through the night while I coughed all over you and gave you pneumonia. The surprise birthday party. Comforting me as I sobbed my eyes out and making certain I didn’t fall to pieces.
The dances, the jokes, the laughs, the long conversations by the nook stove.
Risking your life to save me from the depths of that hideous dungeon.
It was all part of some elaborate seduction scheme? ”
“I mean, that is to say—”
“Because, I have to tell you, Mr. Grimm, it was a remarkably effective one if so. Why, you might just be a wicked rake after all!” Luna cast him a sidelong glance over her lifted shoulder. “And you do have me in bed with you, you know.”
His jaw dropped open. Facing forward quickly, he cleared his throat, one finger reaching to loosen his collar, only to find it was already completely undone.
He gripped his knees instead, his fingers tensing and flexing.
“So, erm.” He cleared his throat again. “What about you? Do you want children?”
“Oh yes!” she answered at once. “A dozen at least!”
“A dozen?” That shocked him out of the semi-stupor. His eyes flared as he turned to stare at her. “Did you say a dozen?”
“All with your sad blue eyes and your floppy hair and your shy smile, and I want to see them running around in little waistcoats and putting far too much pomade in their hair and saying things like ‘essential modalities,’ in the properest little voices. And I’ll teach them about teas, and you’ll teach them about gardening, and they’ll spend their holidays playing in the waterfall pools and making such a great racket! ”
“Yes, but”—his voice sounded a little thin—“a dozen?”
Luna shrugged. “Maybe one or two to start with.” She winked at him. “Alfie and Loni.”
He breathed out a sigh, his mouth creasing in a relieved smile. “I like the sound of that.” Leaning toward her, he cupped her face with his hand again and said, “So, now that we’ve named our first two children, will you marry me?”
She laughed but the laugh broke in a terrible sob. She turned away again, once more studying the top of Gruffles’s head.
“Please, my dear,” he said, and she shivered in response to the endearment. Leaning over, he kissed her teary cheek so tenderly. “Please, marry me.”
“Oh, Mr. Grimm—”
“Nigel,” he reminded her and kissed her cheek again. Then he kissed the corner of her mouth before turning her face and claiming her lips. His mouth molded hers gently, undemanding but full of longing, making her want to give in at once and offer him everything she had.
With a shake of her head, Luna broke away and buried her face in his shoulder.
Gruffles tumbled to the floor as she put her arms around his neck, clinging hard.
“I can’t!” she sobbed. “I can’t marry you, Nigel!
They . . . they’re going to get me. In the end.
I saw it all, long ago, in a cup of cinnamon taeral.
They’re going to get me and tie me to a stone, and they’re going to summon Jastira’s soul and plant it in my body, and . . . and . . .”
It occurred to her that she had never told him any of this before.
That he must be completely shocked and horrified, if not outright questioning her sanity.
Because, of course, he had no idea who she truly was, no idea why the Brotherhood had taken her.
Though . . . she frowned. If that was the case, how had he managed to come after her in the first place?
She was too tired to worry about any of that just now, however.
So when his arms locked around her, when he pulled her close, she let him.
And when he murmured words of comfort in that beautiful voice of his, it hardly mattered what the words were, as long as he was the one speaking them.
Luna allowed her questions and fears to fade, allowed herself to be held, to experience comfort, no matter how fleeting or futile it might be.
Finally, Nigel drew back a little, tilting her chin so that she would look him in the eye. His brow was crinkled, his blue eyes so solemn and earnest, and he spoke in that gorgeous voice of his, saying, “Fate’s my bitch.”
Luna choked on a little laugh-sob, hearing her auntie’s phrase from his mouth.
“Remember?” he continued, forcing her to hold his gaze. “Even fate cannot stop a person from doing what they know they must. I know I must defend you. Save you. And I will, Luna. It’s what I was born to do.”
The passion with which he spoke was so fiery, Luna almost believed him. She wanted to, in any case.
“I don’t think we can actually change fate, Mr. Grimm,” she said, lowering her lashes.
Then she flashed him a quick look and a little smile.
“Sorry. Nigel.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and leaned her head back on his shoulder.
It was such a comfortable place to lean.
“At most, we can outrun it for a little while.”
“Happily For Now?” he murmured.
She nodded. “Happily For Now.”
Nigel was silent for a long while. “Are you happy with me?” he asked at length, his voice soft. “Now?”
“Oh!” Luna closed her eyes, but tears escaped anyway, running down her face and dripping onto his shirt. “You’ve made me happier than I ever knew was possible. Granted,” she added, sitting back to give him a stern look, “you’ve also made me cry more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
He grinned. “Every night for the last month, according to Bryony.”
“What?”
Nigel shrugged, but had the grace to look a little ashamed. “That’s what she said. She claimed you’d been keeping her up.”
Heat shot through Luna’s veins. “That pink-haired traitor!” she snarled.
But Nigel only smiled and pulled her close to him again, kissing her rage-fevered cheeks. “Will you believe me when I tell you I had no idea?”
“No idea what?”
“That you . . . liked me.”
“You hadn’t?”
He shook his head.
“I find that hard to believe!”
“My dear, if you’re going to marry me, you should probably know beforehand: I am remarkably dense when it comes to women.”
Luna threw back her head, sputtering a laugh right through her tears. “I was practically throwing myself at you!”
“Apparently, I missed that part.”
“That night behind the counter? On the quilts?” She narrowed her eyes. “Surely you had some idea.”
“Well, I thought maybe there was a little spark in the air between us, but . . . what the hells was I supposed to do about it? Your aunt had just died.”
She sniffed but offered a little half shrug. “Yes, well, that probably wouldn’t have been the most appropriate time to make your big romantic move.”
“I should think not.”
“But what about when I came back?”
His tone went dark: “Ward showed up.”
“Oh. Right. Ward.” Luna bit her lip. “He had a way of doing that, hadn’t he?” Nigel cleared his throat again and, when she looked at him, he had an odd expression on his face. “What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”